


He’s Down To Freeman

by anoiif



Category: Half-Life, Hunt Down The Freeman (Video Game)
Genre: Crack, M/M, but I did zone out during an hour long video about how it’s bad, character death. how many characters? no clue we’ll figure it out as we go, gordon’s sexy sexy dad bod, i have never played hunt down the freeman, like a lot of tetanus, love at first sight...or is it, my characters do the source material justice, star crossed lovers, tetanus, the United States military written by someone who hates the United States military, this fic is dedicated to the 8 people who have written fic for this fucking game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25582126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoiif/pseuds/anoiif
Summary: Mitchell Shepard sure wishes he had hot babes or blokes to have romance and sex with, but he can’t find a single babe and/or bloke at Black Mesa...that is, until he encounters a sexy DILF in a hev suit
Relationships: Adam/Steve, Gordon Freeman/Mitchell Shepherd, Mitchell Shepherd/Adam (past)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 28





	1. The First Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t played Hunt Down The Freeman and I also haven’t written fanfiction before. I’m very sleep deprived

It all started that day. That terrible, beautiful, soul-shattering day. Mitchell Shepard was sitting on a Black Mesa Tetanus Bench™, and oh boy that bench was fucking LOADED with tetanus. But Mitchell wasn’t thinking about the rust seeping through his military pants and into his bloodstream. He was thinking about...love.

Mitchell toed at some rubble with his large, gleaming military boots and sighed deeply. Boy, he sure wished he had hot babes and blokes to have romance and sex with. Unfortunately for Michael, his loins had been girded for ten long, lonely years, on account of superficial factors like his personality. Motchel let out a deep breath and kicked a pebble to indicate that he was frustrated. He was so frustrated. How was he supposed to win over the babes and blokes when he was stuck at Black Mesa! There wasn’t a single babe and/or bloke in sight. Just rocks and morally questionable science, which were for NERDS and Monchel was a JOCK thank you very much. 

In the distance, he could hear gunfire and explosions, which should have been his cue to saddle up and get shootin’, but Mitchell was frustrated, so he sat and developed several symptoms of Black Mesa Tetanus™, which was like normal tetanus but more evil. He was in the middle of experiencing evil muscle spasms and evil shortness of breath when the wall opposite him exploded and a sexy hunk of orange metal hauled ass through the dust and concrete. 

Monkey felt his breath catch, and only like 20% because of the tetanus. Now THAT was a babe and/or bloke. The figure was an amount of feet tall, decked out in shiny orange body armor, and wielding a crowbar. Mungus batted his long, military lashes and struck a seductive pose. Even from a few yards away, Micchel caught a whiff of the figure’s musky cologne, which was reminiscent of sewage and radioactive waste. 

“Hey there you spicy orange polygon, what should I call you other than ‘sexy as hell’?” Mitchell shimmied his shoulders in what was a clear display of interest in Hot Romance and Sex. The figure said nothing, but his lanyard said “My Name is Gordon Freeman” in red sharpie. 

“Gordon Freeman, huh? That’s so interesting ahaha!” Mintchel said flirtily, twirling his long, luscious hair that he was allowed to keep despite being an active member of the US military where there definitely are regulations about the length that your hair can be because in combat having long hair is risky because it gives the enemy a convenient handhold connected directly to your head but I guess Mutchle was just a bad bitch like that. “So what’s a hunk of metal and flesh like you doing in a place like this?”

Gordon said “...” because he is a silent video game protagonist. In video games, a silent protagonist is a player character who lacks any dialogue for the entire duration of a game, with the possible exception of occasional interjections or short phrases. A silent protagonist may be employed to lend a sense of mystery or uncertainty of identity in gameplay, or to help the player identify better with them. Fortunately for Mimmekl, he loved a strong, silent type, and Gordon looked like he was just the right cup of Orange Gatorade™ to quench his rusty thirst. 

Just as the Gordon started to enter Mitcheld’s general vicinity, Mikey received a text message on his military Apple Watch. He felt the blood and rust drain from his face as he read and re-read the notification. The text was from Colonel Cue himself, and it read: _Attention all troops! Your orders are to **kill** Black Mesa scientist and single father Gordon Freeman! You boot boys better Hunt Down The Freeman (2018)!!!!!_

Mubby was aghast. On one hand, he loved DILF’s, but on the other, he had to shoot Gordon with his big gun! Rusty tears welled up in his eyes as he began to experience evil lockjaw, evil difficulty swallowing, and evil fast heart rate. Oh boy, Mitcchele was so frustrated. He kicked a chunk of debris to show how frustrated he was. He looked up at Gordon as the first of his tears began to fall. 

“Groudon, I’m s-sorry, but the Colonel says I have to—have to kill you!!!” 

“...” said Gordon sadly, lifting his Standard Issue Black Mesa Crowbar™. Before Mitcthcel knew what was happening, he was being bludgeoned with the long hunk of metal. It was like that one homoerotic fight scene from Star Trek: The Original Series (you know the one), except instead of being homoerotic it was just violent. Maurey could feel his heart breaking, along with many bones. 

As he collapsed to the ground in a meaty puddle of flesh and viscera, Michelle made eye contact with the bee-keeper lookin’ suit helmet that shielded Gordon’s sexy face. With the last of his strength, the soldier began his angsty monologue. 

“Gordon *cough* Fr-Free*cough*man......I swear......*wheeze*...........no matter what it *cough* *cough* t-takes *blood noises*............I w-will kill....y..ou........*cough*” he vowed, frustrated. The last thing he saw before his vision went completely black was that square, orange ass disappearing into the halls of Mlack Besa.


	2. The Second Chapter

The first thing Mitchell noticed as his senses slowly came back to him was that his lower half felt...wrong. He couldn’t move his big muscley legs like a good military boy should. As he gained more awareness, he realized he was laying on the shittiest mattress his ass had ever graced, and there was the familiar stabbing pain of an IV in his arm (Author’s note: I’ve only had an IV once when my appendix exploded in 7th grade which was like 8 years ago and my memory is shit but I’m pretty sure that IV’s don’t actually hurt after they’re in but I’m writing this at 8am after getting 4 hours of sleep so ‘stabbing’ is the best fucking adjective you’re gonna get). 

Minchel groaned. He was in a hospital. He hated hospitals. In his tragic backstory, he was forced to go to the hospital for his numerous but tasteful facial scars that he earned after trying to fistfight a Siberian Tiger. He opened his eyes to get a gander at his sorry state, and let out a manly holler of shock and surprise. Two figures were leaning over his shitty hospital bed, inches from his face. The first figure was the gauntest man Mechel had ever seen. Like, this motherfucker made Gollem look sexier than Gollem already is baseline. The man was wearing a crisp suit and had bright, icy blue eyes like a horror game jumpscare. On the other side of his horrible hospital bed was the beloved fan favorite character Larry, an original invention of the _Hunt Down The Freeman (2018)_ universe according to the official wiki page. Larry was Minchlel’s best and oldest friend.

The Gollem-lookin’ motherfucker opened his lipless mouth, and _oh god why doesn’t he have lips wait he’s talking now._ “Ssso you are…..finally awake. Minkle, Sheepard. I ssssee you were caught up, in. A Freeman ambush.” Mr. Gaunt-Face licked his distinct lack of lips and smacked his featureless mouth line. “I would like to. Offer you a…..deal. That I think you will find, favorable.” 

“You should listen to him, dude! I think he’s like, an alien...from outer space!” said Larry, who looked and sounded exactly like Carlos from Big Time Rush. Mocghelr nodded his head, as he trusted precious Larry with his life. 

The suit goblin rubbed his greasy little hands together in glee. “A, wissssse choice, Mr. Shepherd. The deal is. As such. When the time comesssss, you are to…..dispossse of Gordon Freeman. I have equipped you for, this purposssse.” He dragged his horrible blue orbs down Meechie’s body to a fuckload of shiny steel where legs would typically be on a human person. Multchell gasped in awe in a way that was only a little bit horny. His big muscley military legs had been replaced with the sexiest, glossiest robot legs he’d ever layed his eyes on. 

“When we found you, dude, you were like, a pile of blood and vicersa! Gross! We were able to like, put most of you back together, but your legs were totally freaked up by Black Mesa Tetanus™!” Larry gave Mguchel a big thumbs up in a brash display of tenderness and support, and didn’t even say no homo. 

The guy in the suit, who was Gman okay look it’s fucking Gman we all know it’s Gman, said “my name is Gman” to indicate that he was fucking Gman because if I have to come up with one more pseudonym for Gman I will snap. Also he said “So you sssssee, Mr……..Sheapherd, it was. Necessssssary to, outfit, you with sssome. Aperture Branded Violence Legs. Your; kickss and trickss will be, as they sssay, ‘epic’. As well as, deadly.”

Micceal stared at Gman, stone-faced, before cackling like a goose terrorizing a small child. He leapt off of the wretched bed with a large and powerful leap, ripping the IV out with a force so magnum that it blinked out of existence. He turned and flashed a gobsmacked Larry his flashiest grin, really putting all those pearly whites on display in a manner that was equal parts threatening and insufferable. “I think it’s time we blow this piss joint, Larry” he mackeled. 

“That’s so totally cool, Mintray, but first, we should probably, like, report to our direct superior Colonel Cue, respected war veteran and wealthy benefactor to Aperture Science!” 

Moomer groaned in such a fashion that his intense frustration was made apparent. “I fucking hate that saggy sack of bones and tax fraud” he frustratingly grumbled whilst being frustrated. Nevertheless, Mumford had to admit that Larry had never steered him wrong. His bond with Larry was so deep and pure that trusting him was nigh instinctual.

“Well; gentlemen. It appearssss as though my time here is, done…...for now” Gman said, addressing the two men with what would have been a creepy close-lipped smile if he had any fucking lips. “Oh, and ssssweet Larry…...my sincerest, congratulationsss to you.” Gman proceeded to fold in on himself like an accordion before no clipping through the floor. 

“Well that was ominous and unhelpful!” Minceroy said, frusterated. “What in the goddamn was he even congratulating you on?”

“Dude, it was probably on seeing my very best friend again, after spending so much time apart!” Mitchell felt his frustration ebb away, replaced with Larry Lovin’. The homies tenderly fistbumped before hoofin’ it out the door and towards the Colonel’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can feel exhaustion seeping into my bones. Chapter 3 will happen tomorrow probably


	3. A Shocking Turn of Events

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kids! This is your reminder not to take Advil on an empty stomach! I’ve made a horrible mistake!

The moment the boot boys stepped out of the inexplicably abandoned hospital ward, they were graced with a grizzly sight. _Ew ew ew that’s icky_ thought Membrane, watching a man get devoured by some horrible alien creature attached to the ceiling. Luckily, Mempus was a member of the United States Military, so he was used to watching innocent people die.

As soon as the ceiling beast was finished tearing its victim to shreds, Larry pulled out a glock from the large mysterious sack on his back and LIT THAT MOTHERFUCKER UP. MY GOOD BITCH DIDN’T HAVE A _PRAYER._ The ceiling beast fucking exploded like an overtaxed mist machine at an amusement park. The motley pair basked in the crimson drizzle of decimated monster innards, covering them in a red sheen like plastic-wrapped leftovers, if the leftovers were vaguely evil-ish military personnel.

“Larry you beast, I didn’t even get to take my clompers for a spin,” said Macab, gesturing to his oily, lustrous lower half. 

“Yo, sorry ‘bout that, dude! I have a lust for blood and if I don’t get my fix I’ll totally, like, go into anaphylactic shock! Unfortunately, I think that was inexplicably the only ceiling-beast in this video game, but don’t worry! You’ll have plenty of other opportunities to use those radical legs on our way to the Colonel’s office!”

“What” said Mommy before immediately being plowed over by a headcrab zombie. Murbolg was knocked flat on his ass, and the zombie wasted no time leaping on him in a way that could almost be seductive were it not for every aspect of the situation. The zombie started trying to do whatever the fuck headcrab zombies do to people. Eat them? Why? The headcrab is already feeding on the bitch they killed. What fucking purpose would they have to attack more humans? If they need to keep the human alive, just fucking! Get a sandwich! While we’re on the subject, how the fuck are headcrabs able to turn humans into zombies? They evolved on Xen! There’s no fucking way human and headcrab biology would be even remotely compatible. Anyways Moboham’s life was being threatened.

“Fuck yeah! My life is being threatened!” Makoto gleefully exclaimed before shooting his whole business skywards and crushing the zombie’s skull(s) betwixt his titanium thighs. The zombie evaporated like the Spider-Man frog mouth guy did in Infinity War idk I never saw it. Maljoroth leapt back on his military feet and executed a flawless fist pump. Gordon Freeman WISHED he could pump fists that well. Stupid Gorgon and his legendary dad ass. 

Morbrod’s brooding was interrupted by sweet, beautiful Larry hurling a 200lb barrel of medical waste at his head. Madeon let out a screech like a ghost and leapt six feet vertically into the air, barely dodging the sloshing.

“You gotta snap out of it, dude! There’s, like, unlimited zombies at the Olive Garden of Our Fucking Asses Right Now!!!” Sure enough, a whole bitchload of crabbers were galavanting their way towards the duo. I bet Gordon would know what to do, Meferem thought sadly before activating his Aperture Branded Violence Leg Rocket Knees™ and instantly evaporating several dozen crab boys. 

“Data. Transmitted. Subject. Recorded.” said Mobydick’s legs, which was concerning because legs don’t usually do that. Mamoose wisely decided to ignore his talkie-walkies, bottle that shit up, and deal with it later in military therapy. He was too busy punting a headcrab so hard it bisected a second headcrab to deal with this shit. 

The two boy best friends carved their way through the zombies in a fashion that was both narratively interesting and not overpowered in the slightest. After 30 minutes of thrilling action and compelling character development, Muncle realized that as long as they powerwalked, they could just scoot around the headboys with glamor and ease. The boot boys made their way down the hall in relative silence, with only the depth of their emotional bond and the jangle of Larry’s sack to fill the empty air. 

Three minutes later, Morgana’s shiny Violence Toes planted themselves in front of a door labeled ‘The Colonel.’ “Well, this is probably the whore we’re lookin’ for” mumbled Meefch, frustrated. He slammed open the door like a small-meated chad with something to prove entering a gym for the first time. The interior of the office looked exactly how you’d expect a military guy’s office to look like, complete with a pair of American Flag patterned boots on a pedestal, just begging to be licked. Behind a mahogany desk, a hunky man sat in a swivel chair with his back to Megan and beautiful Larry. 

While Larry went to town on those shiny, illustrious boots, Mallory strode forward and slammed his left foot down on the desk, cracking it in half like a swallow’s egg. “Hey Colonel Cue, me ‘n Larry need to hunt down a DILF with the Large Sexy Legs gifted to me by a DILF’nt (Dad I Don’t Want To Fuck).” 

“...Colonel Cue, did you say?” said the figure and……no…….it...couldn’t be…………...Milfred watched in acute horror as the swivel chair dramatically swiveled like they do in movies when they don’t have any better ideas for how to reveal the big bad. Sitting in the lap of the corpse of Colonel Cue was the sultriest motherfucker Mangchle had ever laid eyes on. The guy looked like if you took Kylo Ren and made him even the slightest bit physically attractive. Grease rolled off his luscious hair like an oily waterfall, and his face was painted with a tasteful blood splatter, like the kind of blood splatter they give the eye candy female lead in action movies who “isn’t like other girls” because she can KICK and PUNCH because she has brothers or some other bullshit. Munchlax couldn’t repress his gasp of shock and arousal.

“Hello Milhouse…..it’s been a while.” Mongrl’s jaw dropped at the confirmation that it really was him.

# “ _ **ADAM???!???!!???$)??!?????)??**_ ”


	4. The Plot Thickens, A.K.A. Mitch? More like Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a weird one. Also it’s almost twice as long as the other chapters, but I couldn’t find a good place to stop so I just kinda. Kept going

“Hello Mitchell. Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure—“

“ _SHUT THE FUCK YOU UP!!_!” screeched Menrey in a fit of pure, untamed frustration. He was so fucking frustrated, the frustration was radiating off of him and BOY he was frustrated. Sweet Larry looked up from shoving an entire boot in his mouth with concern and love in his eyes.

“Wuhbt’s wrog, Muhbuel?” said a slobbering and confused Larrold before gingerly spitting out the boot because I need to give exposition and writing boot mouth dialogue is actually really fucking hard. “Everyone knows that if you, like, kill and eat the heart of the previous colonel you totally inherit the title! Just like with witches, and U.S. senators!” 

“My sweet, stupid Larry. I couldn’t give two shits about the desecrated corpse of the late Cornflake Cue. I’m more concerned about the fact that the Colonel has been replaced with my WHORE EX.” Larry gasped. What a turn of events. This was Mangrene’s ex? Wow! What a twist! 

“This will totally, like, establish compelling character motives!” said Larry, wisely. 

“Indeed,” Adam smirked, “our characterizations are both natural and intriguing. Valve Incorporated WISHES they could write characters like this.” Adam stood from the lap of the extremely dead ex-Colonel without breaking eye contact with Monopoly. The air was charged with an electric current as the two men stared each other down. The passion, the longing, the _frustration_ ; all of it combined made it physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually painful to exist in a thirty foot radius of the bitter ex-lovers. 

Minkey was the first to break the silence. “What are you doing here, Adam, other than slutting it up with the upper echelons of the United States Military?” This was the wrong thing to say, because Adam’s face curled grotesquely until he looked like the first result when you google image search ‘grinch smile’.

“Oh ho ho, Mumkle. Is that any way to treat your superior officer? Besides, I’m not ‘slutting it up’ with anyone anymore. I’m, as they say, a taken man.” The greasy motherfucker raised his left hand to display an enormous diamond ring. Like, we’re talking ring pop size, except instead of tasting like chemically engineered blue it probably tasted like real ass diamond. The light refracted from that bad boy could set ants on fire. Milffy saw red.

“I’m calling BULLSHIT. Who the hell would want to spend the rest of their life with your cardboard lookin’ ass?!” 

“Do you remember…….Steve?” And _oh boy, did Musfhele remember Steve_. Steve was that fucking NERD who Adam cheated on him with. Melinda clenched every muscle in his body hard enough that he heard something click in the back of his head and felt a disk herniate (Author’s note: Right now I’m stuck in a car in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Montana and there’s no cell service. I’m like 70% sure I know what a herniated disk is, but I can’t actually check, so I’m creating a new, sexier set of symptoms.)

“You FUCKING LEECH” Megatron hollered as loud as he could while his lungs were steadily filling with blood. 

“I’m sorry, Matchell, but it’s Adam and Steve, not Adam and Mitch...or should I say, Bitch. Booyah!!!” Adam fist pumped and high fived himself, and then high fived Larry. 

“You…..you!!!!! You fu—you FUCKing h *blood sloshing noises* y-you…...y…..” Mebble broke out in hives and promptly blacked out from frustration and blood lung. 

••••••••••••••••••••••

Interlude: Y’all know that relatable moment when you’re on a road trip and you have to pee so bad that it becomes physically agonizing, but it’s going to be another hour at least before you get piss privileges so you go through the stages of grief and come out the other side with a weird level of mental clarity? Anyways this chapter is brought to you by piss brain.

••••••••••••••••••••••

When he came to, there was no more light filtering through the large, intricate stained glass windows that were not described until this moment, and Mortis’s head was cradled gently in a plump lap that could have only belonged to

••••••••••••••••••••••

Interlude 2: I’m so mad I’m so **fucking** mad right now. Why doesn’t anyone talk about the FUCKING synapsids!!!!!!!!! The large, mammal-like reptiles that were the precursor to not only the dinosaurs, but all mammals, reptiles, and birds!!!!!! All people ever talk about are the Fucking Dinosaurs nobody cares about the synapsids nobody cares about the Permian Extinction I am so mad I am eating my own ass.

••••••••••••••••••••••

kind, wonderful Larry. A gentle fire made from pieces of splintered desk crackled by his side, casting the scene in a soft orange glow. Meager could hear Larry and that greasy, cheating scumbag conversing whilst roasting marshmallows. 

“...so, like, I think it’s totally rad that you’ve finally found love! I also found true love recently, and like, it feels so epic!” Magolor felt those plump, lush thighs vibrate below his fractured skull as Larry let out a pleasant chuckle. Melemele sat up from his most precious friend’s lap, who let out a surprised but pleased noise. “Oh hey dude, I thought you were down for the count with all the hives on your skin and blood in your lungs!” Larry tenderly brushed a strand of blood-soaked hair off of Myspace’s face in a way that was so, so homoerotic. 

Mumfrey averted his eyes from Larry’s tender gaze, which had no right to be filled with so much trust and adoration. Instead, he looked to Adam, who’s marshmallow had lit on fire and was in the process of becoming ash. 

“Ah, so you’re finally awak—“

“Shut the hell your mouth, shit-for-brains, the G-Spot already made the Skyrim reference two chapters ago” Moseph sputtered out, as he was still very much drowning in blood and hives. 

“Hm. If I were you, I’d be a bit nicer to the man who held my life in his hands”

“You and I both know that I can kick your ass at mud wrestling—“

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Wuh”

Adam smirked the most wretched, toothy smirk Mungobungo had ever seen, his face contorting like one of those wrinkly faced dogs that have horrible respiratory issues from inbreeding. “You’re aware that your shiny new legs are Aperture branded, yes?”

“Uh yeah, duh,” said Memur, gesturing to his left thigh, where the words ‘Property of Aperture Science’ were scrawled in orange and blue sharpie. 

“Well, you’d never guess who’s husband replaced Cabe Jogson as CEO of Aperture. Go on, guess.”

“Y—“

“It’s mine. My husband. Steve. He’s very rich and powerful and his dick is bigger than yours.” 

Miltank scoffed. “My chode is huge and also made of metal now. What’s your fucking point, leechboy.” 

Adam removed his ashmallow from the flames and shoved the entire thing in his mouth, fire and all. “Muh point ib dabt *gulp* I just so happen to have access to some of the….lesser known features of the Aperture Violence Legs™. Like the remote insta-kill switch installed in every single pair.” 

Larry, who had been no thoughts head empty until this point, spat out marshmallow remains in shock and horror. “Do you mean you can, like, kill Meatey remotely at any time with the press of a button?!”

“Precisely, Larry. Thank you for directly stating what I was trying to convey in clear and concise terms.” Adam speared another marshmallow on a stick and immediately set it ablaze.

“Whadda fuck?!?!???!?!??!!??!?,???!.?!:????” Mantunkle exclaimed, “What, so I gotta be polite to you or you’ll insta-kill me?”

“Yup.”

Moomin weighed his options. Was dying really any better than being nice to this beta cuck? This entire scenario was essentially already his personal hell. Unfortunately, Gordon Freeman was still alive, meaning it would be difficult to hunt down and kill him if he was dead. Mimino took a tasteful second to scream at the top of his lungs into a pillow, and by pillow I mean Larry’s pillowy thighs. When he emerged from the cocoon of soft, pliant flesh, he was marginally more composed.

“Listen up Colonel Flatass—“ Madison began, but stopped because Adam was thumbing a big red button on an ominous remote and Larry was becoming genuinely distressed. Mergrey groaned and developed tremors and sleep apnea. “Fine! Fine. Listen up Colonel Hugemeat, we’re here for one reason and one reason only, and that’s to let you know that we’re on a quest for glory and revenge that will result in the death of known DILF Gordon Freeman.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” 

“What the hell do you mean you’re aware?!”

“Really, Marge, use some of those herniated brain cells. The Colonel’s been dead for 5 weeks. Who do you think gave you the order to kill Freeman to begin with?” Larry made a horrified sound with his mouth and vocal chords, which is how most people make sound. 

Adam lifted up his arm to reveal a Military Applewatch, Colonel Edition. “I want that bastard dead almost as much as you, but there’s no way I’m risking this pretty ass face to actually do the job myself. The man has a crowbar, Mothermother, believe it or not. A fucking crowbar! Do you know what happens when you get hit with a crowbar? That shit hurts! Anyways our Military Spies have located what we believe to be his relative location, and we’re sending you there pronto.” 

“That was so much to take in what the fu—“ said Melias, right before something cold and sharp plunged into his neck. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask me about the Permian Extinction it’s the only thing I care about anymore

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because my good friend was upset that there was incest on the first page of Half Life fics by date updated and they wanted to bury that shit and I’m a goddamn hero. Chapters coming out daily probably


End file.
